Disclaimer: The
characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, Ardelia Mapp, Paul
Krendler and Clint Pearsall (as
well as anyone
you may recognize) belong to Thomas Harris, not to me. But they
are so great I couldn't resist borrowing them for a while. I will turn
them back when I've finished. No copyright
infringement intended. No profit. I'm harmless and broke ... So don't
sue me.
A/N: Thanks for having followed me so far, and for the reviews. So, it seems you guys like both action and romance. Let's see what we can do ... Tell me if I'm on the right tracks.
Chapter 14
Clarice had returned in office on Monday morning, after having spent most of the Sunday sleeping on her couch. The most difficult thing to accept had been that, while so many things had changed in her own life in the passed week, everything in New York was just the way she had left it. The impossibility to share her feeling with anyone was more frustrating than it had ever been before.
Peter Farrow had come to her desk to welcome her back and ask about her health. Which had surprised her very much. Farrow had been very nice and comprehensive about the job she hadn't been able to complete. He even told her that James Ellis, the colleague to whom he had asked to go on with it had made compliments about the work she had done before leaving.
Clarice was very nervous the first day. She constantly had the feeling that everybody could see on her face what had happened to her, and the choices she had made. This was impossible of course. Her brain knew it. But her heart could not help skipping a few beats each time someone addressed to her. This was the price to pay for the guilt, she knew it.
After a few days though, she started to relax again and behave in a more normal way.
Farrow had assigned her to work with Ellis on a pirate music CD traffic. It was a rather interesting case and James was nice to work with. Besides, there was not too much pressure and that suited her for the time being. There was already a lot of things she had to reflect about.
Clarice had decided to follow Hannibal' s advice and to give herself time. Maybe for the first time in her life, she was going to make an important decision taking into account only what was best for her. Not what others wanted or expected from her. Not what was more convenient for the others ... Hannibal Lecter included. What was at stake was her life, and for once she could afford being selfish. From her last days with him, she had understood Lecter would accept her decision, whatever it would be.
That of course didn't mean she was not thinking of him. To be honest, she was primarily thinking of him. Of what he had told her, of his last confession, but also of who he actually was, and of what it would mean for her to follow him.
She had stopped hiding to herself the feeling she had for him. It didn't make sense anymore. She also knew that she could never agree with what he had done ... and what he could still do in the future. The only issue at stake was to understand if she could accept him as he was, despite what he was.
Once again, Clarice was reviewing the past events in her car, on her way to the office. It was Wednesday morning and she had been back to New York for ten days now. However, it seemed to her she had made little progresses in untangling the knots of her feelings. That did not scare her though. She had time. He had told her he would wait and she knew he would keep his promise to her.
It was 8:30 am sharp when she laid her purse on her desk. She went to help herself a coffee and had time to drink it peacefully before James arrived. As every morning, he was still half sleeping when he greeted her.
" - Let me guess ..." she said a kind smile on her face. "The clock did not ring ?
- Oh yes, it did ring. That is, until I threw it against the wall at least ..."
They both laughed. James Ellis was a very attractive thirty years old bachelor, and he spent most of his nights in discos entertaining his numerous girlfriends. Though he was always willing to give much details about his affairs, after a few days, Clarice had renounced keeping up with his very complex love life. He got a coffee and went to sit in front of her.
" - So," he said, after having taken a first sip, "tell me you have resolved the case while you were waiting for me.
- Not exactly." she grinned. "But I had a few ideas.
- Good. Because I don't feel very much like thinking this morning. So, tell me.
- Well, for one thing, the producer we interrogated yesterday does not convince me.
- Rod Edwards ?
- Yes. He told us he had never met Kazinsky, but in the same time, he's been in the business for over fifteen years. Seems strange to me he never even met him at a party or something.
- I agree. Does not seem very likely to me either. What do you suggest ?
- I believe it would be interesting knowing a little bit more about Mr. Edwards ... his career, his acquaintances.
- OK. I have a few friends in the business. I can go and ask them a few questions. What do you say ?
- Could be useful. On my side, I thought I could pay a little visit to the Harrison library. They say they have the most impressive collection of old magazines in town. I though I could leaf through a few of these 'people' thing and see if I can spot Edwards with Kazinsky. Or even separately ... It could be interesting anyway.
- Fine with me. Do you want me to drop you there ?
- No. It's only two blocks away. A little bit of exercise will do me good.
- As you want. We meet here after ?
- All right.
- See you then. And good luck !"
James stood up and left her cubicle. Shortly after, Clarice took her coat and purse and headed to the exit of the building. The perspective of spending her day in a library would have bored her extremely a few months ago. But now, it had become a job and she had decided to always try to get the positive side of it. At least she would have a few hours of peace.
Clarice was walking the last few yards towards the FBI New York office building. Even if not very exciting, her day had been pretty much rewarding. After hours of reading old copies of people magazines and tabloids, she had finally found a picture featuring both Arnold Kazinsky, their main suspect so far, and Rod Edwards. The quality of the picture was not so good and it was not a close shot, but the two men were easily recognizable and ... they were discussing together.
She had had to negotiate with the library employee to get some photocopies, but she had finally got them. While she was at it, she had also taken photocopies of other articles and pictures involving Kazinsky, alone or with other people. Her hands carrying the voluminous file of her findings, she pushed the door of the building with her back. She had to wait another five minutes before the elevator finally arrived and the muscle of her arms were starting hurting when she finally reached the twenty second floor. She sighed. Twenty more yards and she would get rid of the load.
She walked hastily in the corridor and turned round the angle partition of her cubicle. She froze. For a second, she thought it was a mirage caused by her physical tiredness, but soon she had to admit it was true. In shock, she dropped the file she was carrying and the photocopies spread on the floor. "Mr. Pearsall !" she whispered in disbelief.
Clint Pearsall was sitting on the top of her desk and having a coffee with Farrow. The sound of the papers falling down startled the two men and they both turned to Clarice at the same time. Pearsall smiled and raised his hand to her. "Starling !' he said. "So glad to see you again."
Clarice instinctively glanced at Farrow. He looked a bit embarrassed. "Starling," he said. "I'm sure you remember director Pearsall." She hesitantly shook hands with her ex boss and tried to recompose a bit.
" - Certainly." she murmured. "How are you, Mr. Pearsall.
- Fine, thank you. Sorry to have startled you." he added, pointing at the papers on the floor.
" - Oh ... It's OK. I just ... didn't expect to see you."
Clarice kneeled and gathered the fallen photocopies quickly and put them on her desk. While doing so, her mind raced up. What the hell was Pearsall doing here ? It could not just be a friendly visit. Men like him would not grant local offices with their presence unless they had a very good reason for it. And this reason could not be her: her last meetings with Pearsall in Quantico were unpleasant enough to ensure he could very well spend his whole life without seeing her again.
She looked again at the two men.
" - So ..." she said, her voice falsely enthusiast. "You are paying us a little visit.
- Not exactly." he answered. Then, turning to Farrow he added: "Though I'm always happy to meet colleagues from the field. As a matter of fact, I'm here for business.
- Business ?
- Yes. Something that involves you, Starling.
- Me ?"
Farrow interrupted the conversation. "I'm sure we will be more comfortable discussing this in my office." he said. Pearsall nodded and they followed him. Once in his office, Farrow closed the door. Pearsall went directly to sit in one of the armchairs in front of Farrow' s desk, while Clarice waited standing at the door. Peter Farrow was no fool. He had much too much experience with human beings not to recognize an open conflict when he saw one. He did not know everything on the circumstances of Starling departure from Washington, but he could see she did not like Pearsall. And the latter didn't like her either.
He had met Pearsall only today, but he couldn't say that the first impression had been really positive. He mentally noted to question Starling later. "Please, sit down, Starling." he said. "This may take a little time." Clarice complied in silence, keeping her eyes on Farrow, carefully avoiding Pearsall' s look.
" - Director Pearsall has come to ask for your re-assignment to his group." Farrow started, visibly uncomfortable with the idea. Clarice' s eyes widened in disbelief but she let him go on. "Temporarily, of course. For one mission. Maybe you could explain what it is about, Clint ?
- Yes. Thank you, Peter. Well, Starling, it seems one of your old friends has reappeared ..."
Clarice' s heart jumped in her chest. Pearsall did not have to pronounce a name. She instantly knew who he was talking about. Of course ... how could she not have guessed at once ? What in heaven could Pearsall come to her for if it was not Hannibal Lecter ? Her heartbeat accelerated in a crazy way. "What did he know ?" was the first question that came to her mind. Clarice did anything she could to remain calm, externally, but internally she was dying. She turned on her chair and stared at Pearsall, faking not to understand what he was about. Pearsall had an almost imperceptible smile, but it did not escape her.
Pearsall took a solemn voice to give his next sentence all the weight it deserved: "From some news we received yesterday, we are almost certain that Hannibal Lecter is back in the United States." He made a long pause to let Clarice realize the importance of the news. Clarice had to use all her inner resources to compose her reaction with the proper surprise and fright such an announcement would have caused her if it had been made to her two weeks before. She wasn't sure she had succeeded until she caught the satisfaction on Pearsall' s face. Simultaneously, a million questions started to invade her mind. But she had to act according to priorities. First Pearsall.
" - Lecter ?" she whispered, her eyes wide opened.
" - Lecter himself." Pearsall confirmed.
" - But how ..." As she didn't seem to be able to go on, Pearsall obligingly finished her sentence for her.
- How do we know ? Well, I guess we should thank both science and the professional qualities of one county sheriff.
- I don't understand, sir ...
- Of course. Let me explain ..."
She could see the pleasure of Pearsall on his face. He was delighted, as a pretentious professor lecturing a student making it clear that no matter how hard the student would work, he would never reach his level of intelligence. Clarice would have slammed his face with pleasure, but she had to behave. She had to learn more. She had to know how much they had discovered, and more than anything, how much she was involved in all this. So she assumed the face of a stupid and respectful student and waited for Pearsall to continue. Which he did willingly.
"About two weeks ago, there has been a shooting in a farm near Greyson, Green County, New York. You probably haven't heard about it for it remained on local news only. However, two men were found there: one was shot dead, the other one had his neck broken. The sheriff and his men started the investigation but after a few days, they understood it was most probably not a local case. The victims were not from the area. So, he decided to call for help. He contacted our office of Albany, which was the closest. Albany sent two agents and a forensic."
Pearsall asked Farrow for a glass of water and waited for it before going on. Clarice had a glance at Farrow. He did not seam at ease with all this. She patiently waited for Pearsall to proceed with his story.
"- They searched the farm completely. And in the basement, they discovered some blood traces in a kind of cell. They sent some samples to our central lab, and guess what ?
- Lecter' s blood ...
- Right.
- Sorry, sir, but ... are we sure of it ?
- This is where science and Quantico contribution comes. We had kept some blood samples from Lecter. Umm ... from the kitchen, at Paul Krendler' s house ... remember ?"
Clarice nodded, hardly managing to hide her anger. But Pearsall was expecting such a reaction.
" - You know we have a program developed a few years ago, that collects this kind of things and is able to match DNA, don't you ?
- G-Fetch program, yes sir, I've used it a few times.
- Right. They inserted the samples they found in Greyson and that God-damned computer started to ring like hell."
Clarice knew about G-Fetch, but she'd never thought they would use it for a local shooting case. What else had they found ?
" - Do you have any clue, sir ?
- Not yet. Blood identification came only yesterday. But it's the most serious lead we've had in a very long time.
- Yes it is."
Clarice was not sure Pearsall would tell her if he had something else, but for the moment, she had to assume this was all they had. She remained silent for a while, as if digesting what Pearsall had just told her. Then she finally asked the question he had expected her to ask next.
" - Sir, I understand this is a very important element, but ...
- But ?
- But what do I have to do with it ?"
Farrow, who had remained silent till then, cleared his throat and answered.
" - Clint has come in person to organize your temporary transfer to his group, to cooperate on the Lecter case.
- What ?
- Let me finish, Starling. Clint explained his reasons to me and I think that they are more than valid. Objectively, you are the agent who knows better Lecter ... His habits, his way of life, his interests, ...
- I consigned all I know in the file, sir.
- There are things that cannot be put in files, Starling. Intuition is one of them. And that could make the difference.
- That is ... if you really want Lecter to be caught, of course." Pearsall added.
It took Clarice half a second too much to answer, but none of the men noticed it.
" - How could you question my loyalty, sir !" she spat. "I've spent all my ...
" - Nobody has doubts on your loyalty, Starling." Farrow interrupted her. He looked at Pearsall with anger. Pearsall finally acknowledge reluctantly. "And I am sure you will do anything possible to help on this case."
Clarice looked at her feet to conceal her rage. Her voice was plain and calm when she spoke again. "I thought that my ... involvement in the Lecter case was one of the reason why I was set aside from the bureau, wasn't it, Mr. Pearsall. Why call on me now ?". Officially, she had never been forced to leave Quantico. But the three of them knew better. Farrow really didn't look at ease in his role, but Pearsall instead seemed to enjoy the situation very much. He was the one to answer to her.
" - Time has passed, Starling. And the conditions are different. One must learn to adapt in life. Take it as an opportunity to demonstrate us we were wrong.
- Situation has changed all right. Now you need me. So you think you can just show up and ...
- That's enough, Starling." Farrow interrupted. "You are still an FBI agent and as such, your mission is to serve the objectives of the bureau. Whatever the assignment the Bureau has decided to give you ... We are not discussing an option here."
His voice had been determined but soft. She looked at him straight in the eyes until he finally broke the contact and looked away at the window.
" - Very well, sir. What am I supposed to do ?
- You will drive to Albany tomorrow morning." Pearsall answered. "At the same time, Matt Brandon will fly there from Quantico. You remember Matt, don't you, Starling ?
- Yes, sir. He was part of the inquisition after Chesapeake.
- Starling !" Farrow reprimanded her.
" - I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to make things clear.
- I think you made your point, Starling." Pearsall went on, a smile on his face. "Matt will be in charge. You will report to him in the morning. Albany has given us three other agents to help. Is everything clear ?
- Perfectly clear, sir.
- You will act as a kind of consultant, Starling." Farrow added. "And this for a maximum period of three months. Once the investigation is closed or the period is over, you will come back here. With the rank of special agent."
Clarice made no mistake about the look Farrow pointed at Pearsall. Her re-instatement to her former rank had been part of the bargain, no doubt about it. And Farrow wanted to make sure Pearsall would respect his part of the deal. Clarice felt thankful for the fact that Farrow had negotiated for her. But it didn't quite compensate for what she was supposed to endure.
" - What do I do with the case I'm working on ?
- I didn't see Ellis. Is he in office today ?
- Investigating, sir. But we were supposed to meet here in the afternoon. He's probably back now.
- Good. Make sure you transmit all information to him before you leave. Tell him I'll talk to him tomorrow morning.
- All right, sir."
Pearsall stood up. "Well," he said, "I think you can handle the rest without me. I've got a plane in one hour, so, if you will excuse me ..." The two men shook hands and Pearsall left the office, visibly satisfied with the results of the meeting.
Clarice was about to follow him when Farrow called her back.
" - It's only three months, Starling. After that, you'll never hear of him again.
- You don't know them, Mr. Farrow." she answered sadly.
"Oh yes, I know them." Farrow whispered. But Clarice was already gone.
She was walking fast in the corridors, not paying any attention to what was going on around her. Her feelings were a mix of cold anger for Pearsall and panic for the consequences of what she had just heard.
She arrived at her desk and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She only partially managed. All she wanted to do was to leave the building and be alone so that she could shout. The messed up pile of photocopies on the top of her desk brought her back to reality. She had to talk to Ellis first. Not complying to Farrow' s instructions would be a big mistake at this point. She had to forget her heart and behave as a brave little soldier if she didn't want to attract attention further ... at least for the moment.
She went to sit on her chair and unlocked her computer. She inserted a floppy and started to make a backup of her personal notes. While the files were being transferred, she gathered the photocopies and reorganized them. When she had finished, she took the floppy and her files and headed to Ellis' office.
She knocked at the door and entered when he invited her to. She came closer and left her load on this desk. He looked at her, puzzled. "What's that ?" he asked. She sat in front of him and started to explain the situation.
He let her talk without interrupting. This was one of the qualities she appreciated in him: he was able to listen. When she had finished, she told him about the results of her day of research.
" - So," he said, "we can say that Mr. Edwards lied to us.
- I guess we can.
- I think I'm gonna pay him a little visit tomorrow morning. See if he's got a valid explanation to give me. How do you think I should tackle the question ?"
Clarice did not answer. She was visibly lost in her thought. After a while, Ellis spoke again: "You're not really very enthusiast about the whole thing, are you ?". The sound of his voice startled her. She looked at him.
" - Sorry, James. What were you saying ?
- I said you don't look very happy to go back there again.
- Not really. My assignment on the Lecter case did not end very well in fact. Just as my working for director Pearsall. But I guess you've heard about it.
- A little bit.
- Umm ... People talk, don't they ?
- People always talk, Clarice. That's part of human nature."
He gave her a warm smile.
" - And what do you think ?" she asked
" - I think it's none of my business. You're a good partner, that's all I'm interested in. The rest is tabloids stuff. Not my style.
- Thank you, James ... Well, I think I'd better go now. I've got to pack a few things and get a real good sleep if I want to cope with this tomorrow."
They shook hands and Ellis wished her luck. Then she left.
The traffic was dense. From the minute she had left the garage, Clarice' s thoughts had gone back to Hannibal Lecter and the events of the passed weeks. She mentally reviewed everything they had done to list possible leads the FBI could follow. Did they have a way to discover her involvement in the shooting at the farm ?
The guns she had used were not from the FBI, but her own. They were legally registered of course, but the two weapons were clean and not recorded in any FBI file. Therefore, unless they had very precise suspicion against her, no ballistic analysis could lead them to her.
She had not entered the farm either. So, they would not be able to find any of her fingerprints. Of course, the situation was different at Lecter' s house. The furniture would be covered with her prints there. But to find them, the FBI would first have to connect Lecter to Mc Namara and locate his house. She knew it was a possibility, but that would take them time.
She had not used her car or her credit card either. Of course, she had been around with Jason, asking question to people. That would for sure come out during the investigation. However, it would really be bad luck if someone would connect it to her. There was a priori no reason for that. She would just have to be careful not to go back to the places she had been with Jason.
Clarice concluded that for the time being, she was reasonably safe.
Until something she had not thought of suddenly came to her mind. "The car ..." she whispered. There was the car she had rented in Laking to come back to New York. Even if the contract had been established to the name of a Jason Mc Namara, she had shown her driving license and the employee had written it down. That could be a problem.
Checking the rent-a-car agencies was part of the FBI procedures in such cases. Obviously, they would start in the area of the murders and Laking was rather distant from Greyson. It could take time, but sooner or later they would enlarge the perimeter of their searches. If they found out about the car, she would for sure have serious difficulties finding a plausible explanation.
She was arriving at her place. She parked her car in front of the building and headed to her apartment. Once inside, she dropped her purse on the floor and went directly to sit on the couch, without even switching on the lights. She buried her head in her hands and closed her eyes. she took a few deep breaths.
She had to calm down and plan her next moves, she knew it. But it was easier to say than to do. So much so that the image of Hannibal was appearing to her each time she was closing her eyes. She felt the urge to tell him ... So much that it almost hurt physically. He would know what to do. For sure, he could help her.
Instinctively, she stood up and went to her computer. She switched it on and sat at her desk. But the thing was more complex than it would appear. Even if he was connected and could read her message now, what would she write to him ? She thought for a moment. What was safe to write to him ? She was convinced Pearsall was not smart enough to have any suspects of what she had been involved in. But he was certainly vicious enough to put her under surveillance, even without any valid motivation. Her hate for him was largely repaid, she knew it. But would he have her mails controlled too ? Unlikely. However, she wasn't feeling like taking the risk.
An FBI agent could even be watching her house at this moment. She had a look through the window but did not notice anything. Clarice was becoming slightly paranoid and decided she had to clarify the point. She switched off the computer, grabbed her purse and went out.
She started her car and left. Traffic was much less intense now, and it would be easy for her to see if someone was following her. She was driving slowly in the streets of New York, frequently changing direction. She finally parked in front of a fast food and stepped out of the car. She had not noticed anything strange yet.
She went to buy herself a hamburger and when she came out of the restaurant, the street looked pretty deserted.
She drove back to her apartment, yet making a few unnecessary U-turns. When she was certain nobody had followed her, she went back home.
Her little trip had helped her clarify her thoughts and establish a plan. The old hotel where she had left Hannibal Lecter was not so far from Albany. She could easily drive there, inform Lecter on the situation, and report to Matt Brandon in Albany in the morning. And nobody would ever know. Clarice packed a few things in a traveling bag and left.
She had switched on her car radio and put the volume at the maximum. She was singing aloud, alone in her car, just to avoid thinking about what she was doing. That partially worked. But from time to time, she could not prevent her thoughts to go back to her situation. There were too many unanswered questions.
OK, she would go to find Lecter and tell him the FBI was after him again. And then, what ? She would just go to Albany and participate to the investigation ? Just go back in the arena again ? It was a familiar ground and she knew she could handle it with Matt Brandon, but was it really what she wanted ?
And if they came closer, what would she do ? Was she ready to come to the extent of sabotaging the inquiry ? She very much doubted it. No matter what she had lived in the last two weeks, no matter what she had understood about her own life, there were principles and rules that had been so deeply instilled in her that she could probably not violate them ... Even if her own life was at stake.
It was almost 01:00 am when she parked her car in front of the old hotel. The place was silent and dark. She understood immediately that something was wrong. She should have seen some light from the window, even if very slightly. The nights were still too cold and it would not have been reasonable to let the fire die in the chimney.
She took a flashlight she was keeping in her car and walked in cautiously. The inside was even more silent that the outside. She climbed up the stairs, all her senses in alert. She followed the dark corridor.
The doors of the rooms they had arranged during their stay were wide opened. She had a quick look inside but it was obvious the place was empty. There was no trace left of their passage. Someone had carefully messed up the place before he left.
A rush of panic took hold of her heart. Then she cursed herself. She should have known he would not have stayed there long. What was she supposed to do now ?
She sat for a moment on the bed, trying to clear her mind. Then suddenly, the idea came. Jason ... Jason would know where he was ! She glanced at her watch and had a grin. For an instant, she thought of calling him from a public phone box, but she decided to make a pause with paranoia. She took her cell phone and dialed the young man' s number. It rang five times before a sleepy voice finally answered.
" - Hello ...
- Jason, it's me, Clarice.
- Clarice ?" the voice was suddenly fully awake and a little worried. "What happened ? Are you all right ?
- Yes, I'm fine." she lied. "Jason, I'm sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night, but I need to talk to your father. He's not there anymore.
- ... Of course he's not. It was not safe enough to leave him there alone. He's staying at Laking, in a hotel. I mean a real one. Clarice, should I worry ?
- No ... I don't know, Jason. It's ... It's a little bit too complex to explain on the phone, but ... "
Clarice hesitated to tell him all the truth. But he deserved it.
" - The FBI is after him again, Jason. They are still far from him, but I need to tell him. I'm sure everything's gonna be fine.
- I see ... The hotel is called 'Calhoun's'. It's on the main street, about two hundred yards after the agency where we rented your car. He registered as Julius Von Brandt.
- Thank you, Jason.
- Clarice, are you in trouble ?
- What ?
- Are they on your back again ?"
How could he have guessed that ? she thought. Then she remembered who he was.
" - Well ... sort of. But they don't know nothing yet. It's gonna be all right.
- You'll keep me informed, won't you ?
- ... Yes. I'll call you back later.
- Good. Tell dad I love him.
- I will. Goodnight, Jason.
- Goodnight."
The twenty minutes trip to Laking seemed like an hour to Clarice. She had given up on trying to think of something else. The perspective of seeing Hannibal again was making her chill. Since she had went back to home and office, she had decided to think of it serenely, to take the time to analyze her feelings and decide what she wanted to do with her life.
But in that old deserted hotel, in the few minutes during which she had not known where he was or if she would ever see him again, the anguish that had seized her had been almost intolerable. How could she feel like that for this man ? He was so different from what she had been taught to worship all these years. When did she become so twisted a human being to fall in ... No. She could not even say it.
She found Calhoun's easily. The streets of Laking were silent. It was a quiet little town and no one was out at this time of the night. She parked her car and went to the door of the little hotel. She pushed it and the door opened easily. It was dark inside. She silently made her way to the reception desk. Last thing she wanted to do was to wake up the hotel keeper or the guests. She switched on the little lamp behind the counter and leafed through the registry. It did not take her long before she found what she was looking for: J. Von Brandt, room 12.
She switched off the light and headed to the stairs. The floorboards were cracking at each of her steps, but nobody showed up. She slowly progressed along the corridor until she found his room. Clarice took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Lightly first, but as no signs came from behind, she knocked harder. "Dr. Lecter" she whispered.
Hannibal Lecter had always been a light sleeper. The first knocks on his door woke him immediately. He sat on his bed, wondering who could come and disturb him at such a time. He was not really worried, but his senses were in alert. When the knocking started again and he heard his name, he instantly recognized the voice.
He stood up as fast as he could and went to the door.
Clarice finally heard the noise of his crutches behind the door. The door opened. He was standing there in front of her, leaning on his crutches, wearing nothing else than a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She gulped. "Clarice ? What are you doing here ?". The concern in his voice did not escape her.
" - I need to talk to you, Dr. Lecter. Can I come in ?
- Of course."
He moved on the right to let her in. She entered quickly and he shut the door behind her. He watched her walk to the window. "I certainly noticed you went back to the formalities, Clarice." he said playfully. "I though we had gone through these last time." She turned to him and he saw she had cried. "Clarice, you look terrible. Please sit down." he said, indicating an armchair in one corner of the room. She complied. He went to the bedside table, dropped one of his crutches on the bed and came back to her with a glass of water. "Here ... " he said, handing her the glass. "Have a little water." She took a sip and raise her face to him.
The concern she read in his eyes was genuine, and his blue gaze warmed her. Without a word, he delicately put a hand on her shoulder and at this very instant, she got the answer to all her questions ... She loved him.
" - How did you know how to find me ?" he asked softly.
" - I called Jason. He told me.
- Good ... Clarice, what is it ?"
She looked at him straight in the eyes. "They're after you, Dr. L... Hannibal. The FBI." If he was surprised by her announcement, he did not show. He grabbed the only chair of the room and sat in front of her. "Tell me." he simply said.
She told him everything, from her encounter with Pearsall to her fear when she had not found him in the old hotel. She did not spare him any of the facts, nor any or her feeling. He let her talk without interrupting, just nodding from time to time to encourage her to go on. At the end of her relation, she stood up and made a few steps towards the door. She turned back to him and leant against the wall. "What are we gonna do now ?" she asked.
He smiled at her.
" - First, you will have to calm down.
- But ...
- No, Clarice. Whatever the situation is, panicking will not help us. You know that. We're safe here. And we still have a little time before they understand what happened.
- But what am I supposed to do now ? Go back there and lead them to you ?"
She had raised her voice, but he knew her enough to know it was not anger she felt. He stood up and came close to her.
" - I'm sorry." she said, bending her head. "I didn't want to shout at you. I'm not hysterical, it's just that ...
- It is all right, Clarice. I know you can face the situation. I trust your strength, I told you ... What I do not know instead, is what you want to do. I know that not much time has passed, but ... Have you thought about it ?"
She did not answer. When he put his hand under her chin and raised her face to him, a single tear was slowly rolling down her cheek. But her look was determined.
"I love you, Hannibal Lecter. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
The impact that these few words had on Hannibal' s heart was indescribable. Although he had wished for it and many times imagined this moment, to hear them spoken by the only adult woman he had ever loved shook him so violently that his whole body shivered.
His hand went down her neck. He came closer to her and dropped his second crutch. Clarice jumped at the sound of the wood on the floor. He shushed her and drew her closer. He tilted his head to take another look at her. She was more beautiful than ever. He buried his face in her hair and smelt her. Then he slowly bent his face and his lips finally reached her neck.
The touch of his lips and tongue on her skin burnt her. Clarice hand went behind his back and grasped the thin fabric of his T-shirt. She felt his mouth find its way up her neck and on her cheek. He licked her skin where the tear had dried. One of his hand was in the small of her back now and he pulled her against him. She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and caressed the warm skin of his back. He moaned.
His lips finally reached hers, first brushing them softly, then pressing and irresistibly opening her mouth to his tongue. Their first kiss was long and passionate. When they parted, breathless, Clarice was on fire. She whispered his name and her hands grabbed his head asking for more.
Before she could realize, his strong arms lifted her and his tongue was exploring her throat. She raised her legs around his hips and felt his body stiffen. Without stopping to kiss her, he started carrying her to the bed, limping. She caught a fleeting grin of pain on his face. "I can walk" she protested. He shushed her and went on.
He laid her on the bed and sat next to her. His eyes were sparkling. He stared at her so intensely she felt he was drinking her. She hardly felt his fingers unbutton her blouse but her body arched when he started caressing her. Never breaking the look he came on her ...
Clarice had one last clear thought at their situation. Then she lost her reason.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.
A/N: Thanks for having followed me so far, and for the reviews. So, it seems you guys like both action and romance. Let's see what we can do ... Tell me if I'm on the right tracks.
Chapter 14
Clarice had returned in office on Monday morning, after having spent most of the Sunday sleeping on her couch. The most difficult thing to accept had been that, while so many things had changed in her own life in the passed week, everything in New York was just the way she had left it. The impossibility to share her feeling with anyone was more frustrating than it had ever been before.
Peter Farrow had come to her desk to welcome her back and ask about her health. Which had surprised her very much. Farrow had been very nice and comprehensive about the job she hadn't been able to complete. He even told her that James Ellis, the colleague to whom he had asked to go on with it had made compliments about the work she had done before leaving.
Clarice was very nervous the first day. She constantly had the feeling that everybody could see on her face what had happened to her, and the choices she had made. This was impossible of course. Her brain knew it. But her heart could not help skipping a few beats each time someone addressed to her. This was the price to pay for the guilt, she knew it.
After a few days though, she started to relax again and behave in a more normal way.
Farrow had assigned her to work with Ellis on a pirate music CD traffic. It was a rather interesting case and James was nice to work with. Besides, there was not too much pressure and that suited her for the time being. There was already a lot of things she had to reflect about.
Clarice had decided to follow Hannibal' s advice and to give herself time. Maybe for the first time in her life, she was going to make an important decision taking into account only what was best for her. Not what others wanted or expected from her. Not what was more convenient for the others ... Hannibal Lecter included. What was at stake was her life, and for once she could afford being selfish. From her last days with him, she had understood Lecter would accept her decision, whatever it would be.
That of course didn't mean she was not thinking of him. To be honest, she was primarily thinking of him. Of what he had told her, of his last confession, but also of who he actually was, and of what it would mean for her to follow him.
She had stopped hiding to herself the feeling she had for him. It didn't make sense anymore. She also knew that she could never agree with what he had done ... and what he could still do in the future. The only issue at stake was to understand if she could accept him as he was, despite what he was.
Once again, Clarice was reviewing the past events in her car, on her way to the office. It was Wednesday morning and she had been back to New York for ten days now. However, it seemed to her she had made little progresses in untangling the knots of her feelings. That did not scare her though. She had time. He had told her he would wait and she knew he would keep his promise to her.
It was 8:30 am sharp when she laid her purse on her desk. She went to help herself a coffee and had time to drink it peacefully before James arrived. As every morning, he was still half sleeping when he greeted her.
" - Let me guess ..." she said a kind smile on her face. "The clock did not ring ?
- Oh yes, it did ring. That is, until I threw it against the wall at least ..."
They both laughed. James Ellis was a very attractive thirty years old bachelor, and he spent most of his nights in discos entertaining his numerous girlfriends. Though he was always willing to give much details about his affairs, after a few days, Clarice had renounced keeping up with his very complex love life. He got a coffee and went to sit in front of her.
" - So," he said, after having taken a first sip, "tell me you have resolved the case while you were waiting for me.
- Not exactly." she grinned. "But I had a few ideas.
- Good. Because I don't feel very much like thinking this morning. So, tell me.
- Well, for one thing, the producer we interrogated yesterday does not convince me.
- Rod Edwards ?
- Yes. He told us he had never met Kazinsky, but in the same time, he's been in the business for over fifteen years. Seems strange to me he never even met him at a party or something.
- I agree. Does not seem very likely to me either. What do you suggest ?
- I believe it would be interesting knowing a little bit more about Mr. Edwards ... his career, his acquaintances.
- OK. I have a few friends in the business. I can go and ask them a few questions. What do you say ?
- Could be useful. On my side, I thought I could pay a little visit to the Harrison library. They say they have the most impressive collection of old magazines in town. I though I could leaf through a few of these 'people' thing and see if I can spot Edwards with Kazinsky. Or even separately ... It could be interesting anyway.
- Fine with me. Do you want me to drop you there ?
- No. It's only two blocks away. A little bit of exercise will do me good.
- As you want. We meet here after ?
- All right.
- See you then. And good luck !"
James stood up and left her cubicle. Shortly after, Clarice took her coat and purse and headed to the exit of the building. The perspective of spending her day in a library would have bored her extremely a few months ago. But now, it had become a job and she had decided to always try to get the positive side of it. At least she would have a few hours of peace.
Clarice was walking the last few yards towards the FBI New York office building. Even if not very exciting, her day had been pretty much rewarding. After hours of reading old copies of people magazines and tabloids, she had finally found a picture featuring both Arnold Kazinsky, their main suspect so far, and Rod Edwards. The quality of the picture was not so good and it was not a close shot, but the two men were easily recognizable and ... they were discussing together.
She had had to negotiate with the library employee to get some photocopies, but she had finally got them. While she was at it, she had also taken photocopies of other articles and pictures involving Kazinsky, alone or with other people. Her hands carrying the voluminous file of her findings, she pushed the door of the building with her back. She had to wait another five minutes before the elevator finally arrived and the muscle of her arms were starting hurting when she finally reached the twenty second floor. She sighed. Twenty more yards and she would get rid of the load.
She walked hastily in the corridor and turned round the angle partition of her cubicle. She froze. For a second, she thought it was a mirage caused by her physical tiredness, but soon she had to admit it was true. In shock, she dropped the file she was carrying and the photocopies spread on the floor. "Mr. Pearsall !" she whispered in disbelief.
Clint Pearsall was sitting on the top of her desk and having a coffee with Farrow. The sound of the papers falling down startled the two men and they both turned to Clarice at the same time. Pearsall smiled and raised his hand to her. "Starling !' he said. "So glad to see you again."
Clarice instinctively glanced at Farrow. He looked a bit embarrassed. "Starling," he said. "I'm sure you remember director Pearsall." She hesitantly shook hands with her ex boss and tried to recompose a bit.
" - Certainly." she murmured. "How are you, Mr. Pearsall.
- Fine, thank you. Sorry to have startled you." he added, pointing at the papers on the floor.
" - Oh ... It's OK. I just ... didn't expect to see you."
Clarice kneeled and gathered the fallen photocopies quickly and put them on her desk. While doing so, her mind raced up. What the hell was Pearsall doing here ? It could not just be a friendly visit. Men like him would not grant local offices with their presence unless they had a very good reason for it. And this reason could not be her: her last meetings with Pearsall in Quantico were unpleasant enough to ensure he could very well spend his whole life without seeing her again.
She looked again at the two men.
" - So ..." she said, her voice falsely enthusiast. "You are paying us a little visit.
- Not exactly." he answered. Then, turning to Farrow he added: "Though I'm always happy to meet colleagues from the field. As a matter of fact, I'm here for business.
- Business ?
- Yes. Something that involves you, Starling.
- Me ?"
Farrow interrupted the conversation. "I'm sure we will be more comfortable discussing this in my office." he said. Pearsall nodded and they followed him. Once in his office, Farrow closed the door. Pearsall went directly to sit in one of the armchairs in front of Farrow' s desk, while Clarice waited standing at the door. Peter Farrow was no fool. He had much too much experience with human beings not to recognize an open conflict when he saw one. He did not know everything on the circumstances of Starling departure from Washington, but he could see she did not like Pearsall. And the latter didn't like her either.
He had met Pearsall only today, but he couldn't say that the first impression had been really positive. He mentally noted to question Starling later. "Please, sit down, Starling." he said. "This may take a little time." Clarice complied in silence, keeping her eyes on Farrow, carefully avoiding Pearsall' s look.
" - Director Pearsall has come to ask for your re-assignment to his group." Farrow started, visibly uncomfortable with the idea. Clarice' s eyes widened in disbelief but she let him go on. "Temporarily, of course. For one mission. Maybe you could explain what it is about, Clint ?
- Yes. Thank you, Peter. Well, Starling, it seems one of your old friends has reappeared ..."
Clarice' s heart jumped in her chest. Pearsall did not have to pronounce a name. She instantly knew who he was talking about. Of course ... how could she not have guessed at once ? What in heaven could Pearsall come to her for if it was not Hannibal Lecter ? Her heartbeat accelerated in a crazy way. "What did he know ?" was the first question that came to her mind. Clarice did anything she could to remain calm, externally, but internally she was dying. She turned on her chair and stared at Pearsall, faking not to understand what he was about. Pearsall had an almost imperceptible smile, but it did not escape her.
Pearsall took a solemn voice to give his next sentence all the weight it deserved: "From some news we received yesterday, we are almost certain that Hannibal Lecter is back in the United States." He made a long pause to let Clarice realize the importance of the news. Clarice had to use all her inner resources to compose her reaction with the proper surprise and fright such an announcement would have caused her if it had been made to her two weeks before. She wasn't sure she had succeeded until she caught the satisfaction on Pearsall' s face. Simultaneously, a million questions started to invade her mind. But she had to act according to priorities. First Pearsall.
" - Lecter ?" she whispered, her eyes wide opened.
" - Lecter himself." Pearsall confirmed.
" - But how ..." As she didn't seem to be able to go on, Pearsall obligingly finished her sentence for her.
- How do we know ? Well, I guess we should thank both science and the professional qualities of one county sheriff.
- I don't understand, sir ...
- Of course. Let me explain ..."
She could see the pleasure of Pearsall on his face. He was delighted, as a pretentious professor lecturing a student making it clear that no matter how hard the student would work, he would never reach his level of intelligence. Clarice would have slammed his face with pleasure, but she had to behave. She had to learn more. She had to know how much they had discovered, and more than anything, how much she was involved in all this. So she assumed the face of a stupid and respectful student and waited for Pearsall to continue. Which he did willingly.
"About two weeks ago, there has been a shooting in a farm near Greyson, Green County, New York. You probably haven't heard about it for it remained on local news only. However, two men were found there: one was shot dead, the other one had his neck broken. The sheriff and his men started the investigation but after a few days, they understood it was most probably not a local case. The victims were not from the area. So, he decided to call for help. He contacted our office of Albany, which was the closest. Albany sent two agents and a forensic."
Pearsall asked Farrow for a glass of water and waited for it before going on. Clarice had a glance at Farrow. He did not seam at ease with all this. She patiently waited for Pearsall to proceed with his story.
"- They searched the farm completely. And in the basement, they discovered some blood traces in a kind of cell. They sent some samples to our central lab, and guess what ?
- Lecter' s blood ...
- Right.
- Sorry, sir, but ... are we sure of it ?
- This is where science and Quantico contribution comes. We had kept some blood samples from Lecter. Umm ... from the kitchen, at Paul Krendler' s house ... remember ?"
Clarice nodded, hardly managing to hide her anger. But Pearsall was expecting such a reaction.
" - You know we have a program developed a few years ago, that collects this kind of things and is able to match DNA, don't you ?
- G-Fetch program, yes sir, I've used it a few times.
- Right. They inserted the samples they found in Greyson and that God-damned computer started to ring like hell."
Clarice knew about G-Fetch, but she'd never thought they would use it for a local shooting case. What else had they found ?
" - Do you have any clue, sir ?
- Not yet. Blood identification came only yesterday. But it's the most serious lead we've had in a very long time.
- Yes it is."
Clarice was not sure Pearsall would tell her if he had something else, but for the moment, she had to assume this was all they had. She remained silent for a while, as if digesting what Pearsall had just told her. Then she finally asked the question he had expected her to ask next.
" - Sir, I understand this is a very important element, but ...
- But ?
- But what do I have to do with it ?"
Farrow, who had remained silent till then, cleared his throat and answered.
" - Clint has come in person to organize your temporary transfer to his group, to cooperate on the Lecter case.
- What ?
- Let me finish, Starling. Clint explained his reasons to me and I think that they are more than valid. Objectively, you are the agent who knows better Lecter ... His habits, his way of life, his interests, ...
- I consigned all I know in the file, sir.
- There are things that cannot be put in files, Starling. Intuition is one of them. And that could make the difference.
- That is ... if you really want Lecter to be caught, of course." Pearsall added.
It took Clarice half a second too much to answer, but none of the men noticed it.
" - How could you question my loyalty, sir !" she spat. "I've spent all my ...
" - Nobody has doubts on your loyalty, Starling." Farrow interrupted her. He looked at Pearsall with anger. Pearsall finally acknowledge reluctantly. "And I am sure you will do anything possible to help on this case."
Clarice looked at her feet to conceal her rage. Her voice was plain and calm when she spoke again. "I thought that my ... involvement in the Lecter case was one of the reason why I was set aside from the bureau, wasn't it, Mr. Pearsall. Why call on me now ?". Officially, she had never been forced to leave Quantico. But the three of them knew better. Farrow really didn't look at ease in his role, but Pearsall instead seemed to enjoy the situation very much. He was the one to answer to her.
" - Time has passed, Starling. And the conditions are different. One must learn to adapt in life. Take it as an opportunity to demonstrate us we were wrong.
- Situation has changed all right. Now you need me. So you think you can just show up and ...
- That's enough, Starling." Farrow interrupted. "You are still an FBI agent and as such, your mission is to serve the objectives of the bureau. Whatever the assignment the Bureau has decided to give you ... We are not discussing an option here."
His voice had been determined but soft. She looked at him straight in the eyes until he finally broke the contact and looked away at the window.
" - Very well, sir. What am I supposed to do ?
- You will drive to Albany tomorrow morning." Pearsall answered. "At the same time, Matt Brandon will fly there from Quantico. You remember Matt, don't you, Starling ?
- Yes, sir. He was part of the inquisition after Chesapeake.
- Starling !" Farrow reprimanded her.
" - I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to make things clear.
- I think you made your point, Starling." Pearsall went on, a smile on his face. "Matt will be in charge. You will report to him in the morning. Albany has given us three other agents to help. Is everything clear ?
- Perfectly clear, sir.
- You will act as a kind of consultant, Starling." Farrow added. "And this for a maximum period of three months. Once the investigation is closed or the period is over, you will come back here. With the rank of special agent."
Clarice made no mistake about the look Farrow pointed at Pearsall. Her re-instatement to her former rank had been part of the bargain, no doubt about it. And Farrow wanted to make sure Pearsall would respect his part of the deal. Clarice felt thankful for the fact that Farrow had negotiated for her. But it didn't quite compensate for what she was supposed to endure.
" - What do I do with the case I'm working on ?
- I didn't see Ellis. Is he in office today ?
- Investigating, sir. But we were supposed to meet here in the afternoon. He's probably back now.
- Good. Make sure you transmit all information to him before you leave. Tell him I'll talk to him tomorrow morning.
- All right, sir."
Pearsall stood up. "Well," he said, "I think you can handle the rest without me. I've got a plane in one hour, so, if you will excuse me ..." The two men shook hands and Pearsall left the office, visibly satisfied with the results of the meeting.
Clarice was about to follow him when Farrow called her back.
" - It's only three months, Starling. After that, you'll never hear of him again.
- You don't know them, Mr. Farrow." she answered sadly.
"Oh yes, I know them." Farrow whispered. But Clarice was already gone.
She was walking fast in the corridors, not paying any attention to what was going on around her. Her feelings were a mix of cold anger for Pearsall and panic for the consequences of what she had just heard.
She arrived at her desk and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She only partially managed. All she wanted to do was to leave the building and be alone so that she could shout. The messed up pile of photocopies on the top of her desk brought her back to reality. She had to talk to Ellis first. Not complying to Farrow' s instructions would be a big mistake at this point. She had to forget her heart and behave as a brave little soldier if she didn't want to attract attention further ... at least for the moment.
She went to sit on her chair and unlocked her computer. She inserted a floppy and started to make a backup of her personal notes. While the files were being transferred, she gathered the photocopies and reorganized them. When she had finished, she took the floppy and her files and headed to Ellis' office.
She knocked at the door and entered when he invited her to. She came closer and left her load on this desk. He looked at her, puzzled. "What's that ?" he asked. She sat in front of him and started to explain the situation.
He let her talk without interrupting. This was one of the qualities she appreciated in him: he was able to listen. When she had finished, she told him about the results of her day of research.
" - So," he said, "we can say that Mr. Edwards lied to us.
- I guess we can.
- I think I'm gonna pay him a little visit tomorrow morning. See if he's got a valid explanation to give me. How do you think I should tackle the question ?"
Clarice did not answer. She was visibly lost in her thought. After a while, Ellis spoke again: "You're not really very enthusiast about the whole thing, are you ?". The sound of his voice startled her. She looked at him.
" - Sorry, James. What were you saying ?
- I said you don't look very happy to go back there again.
- Not really. My assignment on the Lecter case did not end very well in fact. Just as my working for director Pearsall. But I guess you've heard about it.
- A little bit.
- Umm ... People talk, don't they ?
- People always talk, Clarice. That's part of human nature."
He gave her a warm smile.
" - And what do you think ?" she asked
" - I think it's none of my business. You're a good partner, that's all I'm interested in. The rest is tabloids stuff. Not my style.
- Thank you, James ... Well, I think I'd better go now. I've got to pack a few things and get a real good sleep if I want to cope with this tomorrow."
They shook hands and Ellis wished her luck. Then she left.
The traffic was dense. From the minute she had left the garage, Clarice' s thoughts had gone back to Hannibal Lecter and the events of the passed weeks. She mentally reviewed everything they had done to list possible leads the FBI could follow. Did they have a way to discover her involvement in the shooting at the farm ?
The guns she had used were not from the FBI, but her own. They were legally registered of course, but the two weapons were clean and not recorded in any FBI file. Therefore, unless they had very precise suspicion against her, no ballistic analysis could lead them to her.
She had not entered the farm either. So, they would not be able to find any of her fingerprints. Of course, the situation was different at Lecter' s house. The furniture would be covered with her prints there. But to find them, the FBI would first have to connect Lecter to Mc Namara and locate his house. She knew it was a possibility, but that would take them time.
She had not used her car or her credit card either. Of course, she had been around with Jason, asking question to people. That would for sure come out during the investigation. However, it would really be bad luck if someone would connect it to her. There was a priori no reason for that. She would just have to be careful not to go back to the places she had been with Jason.
Clarice concluded that for the time being, she was reasonably safe.
Until something she had not thought of suddenly came to her mind. "The car ..." she whispered. There was the car she had rented in Laking to come back to New York. Even if the contract had been established to the name of a Jason Mc Namara, she had shown her driving license and the employee had written it down. That could be a problem.
Checking the rent-a-car agencies was part of the FBI procedures in such cases. Obviously, they would start in the area of the murders and Laking was rather distant from Greyson. It could take time, but sooner or later they would enlarge the perimeter of their searches. If they found out about the car, she would for sure have serious difficulties finding a plausible explanation.
She was arriving at her place. She parked her car in front of the building and headed to her apartment. Once inside, she dropped her purse on the floor and went directly to sit on the couch, without even switching on the lights. She buried her head in her hands and closed her eyes. she took a few deep breaths.
She had to calm down and plan her next moves, she knew it. But it was easier to say than to do. So much so that the image of Hannibal was appearing to her each time she was closing her eyes. She felt the urge to tell him ... So much that it almost hurt physically. He would know what to do. For sure, he could help her.
Instinctively, she stood up and went to her computer. She switched it on and sat at her desk. But the thing was more complex than it would appear. Even if he was connected and could read her message now, what would she write to him ? She thought for a moment. What was safe to write to him ? She was convinced Pearsall was not smart enough to have any suspects of what she had been involved in. But he was certainly vicious enough to put her under surveillance, even without any valid motivation. Her hate for him was largely repaid, she knew it. But would he have her mails controlled too ? Unlikely. However, she wasn't feeling like taking the risk.
An FBI agent could even be watching her house at this moment. She had a look through the window but did not notice anything. Clarice was becoming slightly paranoid and decided she had to clarify the point. She switched off the computer, grabbed her purse and went out.
She started her car and left. Traffic was much less intense now, and it would be easy for her to see if someone was following her. She was driving slowly in the streets of New York, frequently changing direction. She finally parked in front of a fast food and stepped out of the car. She had not noticed anything strange yet.
She went to buy herself a hamburger and when she came out of the restaurant, the street looked pretty deserted.
She drove back to her apartment, yet making a few unnecessary U-turns. When she was certain nobody had followed her, she went back home.
Her little trip had helped her clarify her thoughts and establish a plan. The old hotel where she had left Hannibal Lecter was not so far from Albany. She could easily drive there, inform Lecter on the situation, and report to Matt Brandon in Albany in the morning. And nobody would ever know. Clarice packed a few things in a traveling bag and left.
She had switched on her car radio and put the volume at the maximum. She was singing aloud, alone in her car, just to avoid thinking about what she was doing. That partially worked. But from time to time, she could not prevent her thoughts to go back to her situation. There were too many unanswered questions.
OK, she would go to find Lecter and tell him the FBI was after him again. And then, what ? She would just go to Albany and participate to the investigation ? Just go back in the arena again ? It was a familiar ground and she knew she could handle it with Matt Brandon, but was it really what she wanted ?
And if they came closer, what would she do ? Was she ready to come to the extent of sabotaging the inquiry ? She very much doubted it. No matter what she had lived in the last two weeks, no matter what she had understood about her own life, there were principles and rules that had been so deeply instilled in her that she could probably not violate them ... Even if her own life was at stake.
It was almost 01:00 am when she parked her car in front of the old hotel. The place was silent and dark. She understood immediately that something was wrong. She should have seen some light from the window, even if very slightly. The nights were still too cold and it would not have been reasonable to let the fire die in the chimney.
She took a flashlight she was keeping in her car and walked in cautiously. The inside was even more silent that the outside. She climbed up the stairs, all her senses in alert. She followed the dark corridor.
The doors of the rooms they had arranged during their stay were wide opened. She had a quick look inside but it was obvious the place was empty. There was no trace left of their passage. Someone had carefully messed up the place before he left.
A rush of panic took hold of her heart. Then she cursed herself. She should have known he would not have stayed there long. What was she supposed to do now ?
She sat for a moment on the bed, trying to clear her mind. Then suddenly, the idea came. Jason ... Jason would know where he was ! She glanced at her watch and had a grin. For an instant, she thought of calling him from a public phone box, but she decided to make a pause with paranoia. She took her cell phone and dialed the young man' s number. It rang five times before a sleepy voice finally answered.
" - Hello ...
- Jason, it's me, Clarice.
- Clarice ?" the voice was suddenly fully awake and a little worried. "What happened ? Are you all right ?
- Yes, I'm fine." she lied. "Jason, I'm sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night, but I need to talk to your father. He's not there anymore.
- ... Of course he's not. It was not safe enough to leave him there alone. He's staying at Laking, in a hotel. I mean a real one. Clarice, should I worry ?
- No ... I don't know, Jason. It's ... It's a little bit too complex to explain on the phone, but ... "
Clarice hesitated to tell him all the truth. But he deserved it.
" - The FBI is after him again, Jason. They are still far from him, but I need to tell him. I'm sure everything's gonna be fine.
- I see ... The hotel is called 'Calhoun's'. It's on the main street, about two hundred yards after the agency where we rented your car. He registered as Julius Von Brandt.
- Thank you, Jason.
- Clarice, are you in trouble ?
- What ?
- Are they on your back again ?"
How could he have guessed that ? she thought. Then she remembered who he was.
" - Well ... sort of. But they don't know nothing yet. It's gonna be all right.
- You'll keep me informed, won't you ?
- ... Yes. I'll call you back later.
- Good. Tell dad I love him.
- I will. Goodnight, Jason.
- Goodnight."
The twenty minutes trip to Laking seemed like an hour to Clarice. She had given up on trying to think of something else. The perspective of seeing Hannibal again was making her chill. Since she had went back to home and office, she had decided to think of it serenely, to take the time to analyze her feelings and decide what she wanted to do with her life.
But in that old deserted hotel, in the few minutes during which she had not known where he was or if she would ever see him again, the anguish that had seized her had been almost intolerable. How could she feel like that for this man ? He was so different from what she had been taught to worship all these years. When did she become so twisted a human being to fall in ... No. She could not even say it.
She found Calhoun's easily. The streets of Laking were silent. It was a quiet little town and no one was out at this time of the night. She parked her car and went to the door of the little hotel. She pushed it and the door opened easily. It was dark inside. She silently made her way to the reception desk. Last thing she wanted to do was to wake up the hotel keeper or the guests. She switched on the little lamp behind the counter and leafed through the registry. It did not take her long before she found what she was looking for: J. Von Brandt, room 12.
She switched off the light and headed to the stairs. The floorboards were cracking at each of her steps, but nobody showed up. She slowly progressed along the corridor until she found his room. Clarice took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Lightly first, but as no signs came from behind, she knocked harder. "Dr. Lecter" she whispered.
Hannibal Lecter had always been a light sleeper. The first knocks on his door woke him immediately. He sat on his bed, wondering who could come and disturb him at such a time. He was not really worried, but his senses were in alert. When the knocking started again and he heard his name, he instantly recognized the voice.
He stood up as fast as he could and went to the door.
Clarice finally heard the noise of his crutches behind the door. The door opened. He was standing there in front of her, leaning on his crutches, wearing nothing else than a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She gulped. "Clarice ? What are you doing here ?". The concern in his voice did not escape her.
" - I need to talk to you, Dr. Lecter. Can I come in ?
- Of course."
He moved on the right to let her in. She entered quickly and he shut the door behind her. He watched her walk to the window. "I certainly noticed you went back to the formalities, Clarice." he said playfully. "I though we had gone through these last time." She turned to him and he saw she had cried. "Clarice, you look terrible. Please sit down." he said, indicating an armchair in one corner of the room. She complied. He went to the bedside table, dropped one of his crutches on the bed and came back to her with a glass of water. "Here ... " he said, handing her the glass. "Have a little water." She took a sip and raise her face to him.
The concern she read in his eyes was genuine, and his blue gaze warmed her. Without a word, he delicately put a hand on her shoulder and at this very instant, she got the answer to all her questions ... She loved him.
" - How did you know how to find me ?" he asked softly.
" - I called Jason. He told me.
- Good ... Clarice, what is it ?"
She looked at him straight in the eyes. "They're after you, Dr. L... Hannibal. The FBI." If he was surprised by her announcement, he did not show. He grabbed the only chair of the room and sat in front of her. "Tell me." he simply said.
She told him everything, from her encounter with Pearsall to her fear when she had not found him in the old hotel. She did not spare him any of the facts, nor any or her feeling. He let her talk without interrupting, just nodding from time to time to encourage her to go on. At the end of her relation, she stood up and made a few steps towards the door. She turned back to him and leant against the wall. "What are we gonna do now ?" she asked.
He smiled at her.
" - First, you will have to calm down.
- But ...
- No, Clarice. Whatever the situation is, panicking will not help us. You know that. We're safe here. And we still have a little time before they understand what happened.
- But what am I supposed to do now ? Go back there and lead them to you ?"
She had raised her voice, but he knew her enough to know it was not anger she felt. He stood up and came close to her.
" - I'm sorry." she said, bending her head. "I didn't want to shout at you. I'm not hysterical, it's just that ...
- It is all right, Clarice. I know you can face the situation. I trust your strength, I told you ... What I do not know instead, is what you want to do. I know that not much time has passed, but ... Have you thought about it ?"
She did not answer. When he put his hand under her chin and raised her face to him, a single tear was slowly rolling down her cheek. But her look was determined.
"I love you, Hannibal Lecter. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
The impact that these few words had on Hannibal' s heart was indescribable. Although he had wished for it and many times imagined this moment, to hear them spoken by the only adult woman he had ever loved shook him so violently that his whole body shivered.
His hand went down her neck. He came closer to her and dropped his second crutch. Clarice jumped at the sound of the wood on the floor. He shushed her and drew her closer. He tilted his head to take another look at her. She was more beautiful than ever. He buried his face in her hair and smelt her. Then he slowly bent his face and his lips finally reached her neck.
The touch of his lips and tongue on her skin burnt her. Clarice hand went behind his back and grasped the thin fabric of his T-shirt. She felt his mouth find its way up her neck and on her cheek. He licked her skin where the tear had dried. One of his hand was in the small of her back now and he pulled her against him. She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and caressed the warm skin of his back. He moaned.
His lips finally reached hers, first brushing them softly, then pressing and irresistibly opening her mouth to his tongue. Their first kiss was long and passionate. When they parted, breathless, Clarice was on fire. She whispered his name and her hands grabbed his head asking for more.
Before she could realize, his strong arms lifted her and his tongue was exploring her throat. She raised her legs around his hips and felt his body stiffen. Without stopping to kiss her, he started carrying her to the bed, limping. She caught a fleeting grin of pain on his face. "I can walk" she protested. He shushed her and went on.
He laid her on the bed and sat next to her. His eyes were sparkling. He stared at her so intensely she felt he was drinking her. She hardly felt his fingers unbutton her blouse but her body arched when he started caressing her. Never breaking the look he came on her ...
Clarice had one last clear thought at their situation. Then she lost her reason.
To be continued ... Thanks for reading. Reviews are as usual MOST welcome ...
Absolut.